Rewritten: A Passionate Affair
by wackystrings123
Summary: He's a famous basketball superstar, married to the most beautiful woman in Hollywood; she's homeless, a part-time hooker and from the wrong side of town. They meet, sparks fly. He's married but that doesn't stop them. TxG CxT. M for language and content.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here's the rewritten version of A Passionate Affair. I hope you like it. **

**Review.**

A Passionate Affair

by wackystrings123

Chapter 1

This was _not _how Troy Bolton planned on spending his Friday night; actually, this was indescribably _far _from what he had in mind. _And _to make matters worse, this was the first free night he had, during which he did not have to spend hours either at the gym or held at some conference, or basketball game, no, tonight was all his, his night. Or it was…up until three hours ago. Now he was stuck at some cocktail party with a tie that was doing nothing but cutting off his air supply and suit that if he got so much as a speck of dust on it, he would not live another hour.

He knew it was rude and "un-host-like" of him to stand, or preferably slouch against the wall, in the corner of the large extravagantly decorated tent, sulkily sipping at his cocktail with one hand in his pocket as his bright ocean blue orbs analyzed the many celebrity guests laughing and mingling with one another. At the very moment, his eyes were locked on two elderly women openly bickering in the middle of the dance floor. He could not help but chuckle at the way their arms flailed dramatically and their heads bobbed with every word that passed through their mouths.

"Oh my fucking G*d! Are they trying to _jerk_? At a formal dinner party? I swear, they look like Miss Piggy and Kermit"

Troy jumped at the sound of the foreign voice that had interrupted his comfortable silence and whipped his head towards the speaker and felt his breath catch in his throat as their eyes locked.

Her gleaming ebony hair, twisted into one giant curl and held by a black hair tie, hung low down her back, without a single strand falling into her oval, olive face. Her dark doe-shaped mocha eyes stared back up at him with mischievous humor as one of small hands tugged at her white uniform, while the other attempted to balance a tray of drinks. Her plump, bright pink lips stretched into a slight smirk. She clicked her tongue cheekily and turned away from him to offer a few guests some drinks. Finally able to catch his breath, Troy opened his mouth to respond just as her slender body slithered through several people and got swallowed up by the sea of guests.

_Who was she?_

He was captivated by her exotic beauty and the air of confidence and mischief that hung around her. Her image was still fresh in his mind; from the tight black trousers to the high collar shirt, to her shortness and her evident curviness, all the way to her chocolate brown pools. He needed to know who she was. He had never seen her around before…

"Troy!"

_A wife; you have a wife Bolton. Focus._

"Yeah Shar"

Sharpay Evans; every mans fantasy, from the endless, tanned shapely legs, to the sexily curvy body, large chest, rich golden locks. To sum it up, Sharpay Evans was perfect, and she was all his. The singer, slash, actress had been thrust into the world of stardom at the day she was born, reason being she was the heiress to the famous worldwide country club, Lava Springs, so rising to the top in Hollywood had not been a struggle for her at all.

"This is Sean Davidson, owner of the Chicago Bulls."

On any normal circumstance, Troy would have transformed into a blubbering fool upon meeting someone of his status, but presently his mind had been captivated by the exotic waitress and all he could manage was a curt "pleasure to meet you sir" and a firm handshake.

"Ah, a Lakers man can't wait to play you guys in a couple of weeks."

Troy forced a laugh as he pretended to be interested in what the large gutted man was saying. He had to get out of this hell-hole, no man was meant to spend their Friday night hosed up in some elegant tent, munching little tit-bits of food and sipping expensive champagne, no! He was meant to be at home, in front of his plasma screen television, in his "man cave", downing beer and attacking several pizza boxes whilst watching basketball players dart across the screen; or better yet, tapping away on his Xbox.

Without meaning to do so, Troy's shoulders slumped, his arms folded across his chest and his expression bore complete and utter boredom. He was so bored that he had even forgotten about the Filipina woman that had captured his attention moments prior…that was until he felt an ice cold substance seep through the front of his chest, causing his eyes to pop out in shock and horror and his body to freeze at the sensation. The clatter that followed went unheard by his ears as his surprised blue orbs searched wildly for the cause of his sudden discomfort.

"What the hell are you doing?" beside him he heard the unmistakable shriek of his wife as she too jumped away from the cold matter.

"I am _so _sorry!" an apologetic and frantic voice stood out through all the commotion. Troy's head shot up at the familiarity of the sound and the continuous pounding in his chest seemingly ceased as his eyes fell on the familiar figure of the brunette beauty. He felt his insides twist violently at the sight and an uncontrollable grin adorned his face.

"Don't worry about it." He hastily assured her as he tried to swat away Sharpay's frantic attempts at ridding his shirt of the unidentifiable liquid at the same time trying not to break eye contact with the unnamed waitress.

A small, hardly noticeable smile splayed across her darkened features as a deep scarlet color claimed her cheeks. She reflexively bowed her head and trained her dark mocha eyes on her shiny black shoes, praying that no one had caught a glimpse of her shaded and heated cheeks.

"Baby your shirt is ruined!"

"It's no big deal Pay; I'll just throw it in the wash." He countered tugging his soaked shirt forward so the sticky liquid would not come into contact with his skin. Even as he spoke his azure eyes never left the dark tresses that coiled down her clothed back.

"No big deal? Troy, this is silk!" Angered as well as panicked, the blonde whipped around o face the embarrassed wait staff. "What is wrong with you?"

"It was an accident!" the brunette's eyes flicked back up to meet Sharpay's flaming hazel ones.

"She didn't mean to Pay." Troy spoke trying to comfort his enraged wife. He gently clasped her hand in his and tugged her slender body towards him. "I'll just go and change." He whispered softly, only to her.

Still scowling in distaste, Sharpay managed to steer her husband through the crowd with the still flushed waitress at their heels.

"You, Estelle!" a tiny blonde scurried up to Sharpay, dressed similarly to the silent waitress who stood stock-still watching with caution the two blondes interact. Estelle's dark blonde ponytail swished from side o side as her dainty feet padded against the sparkling marble floor. Her green eyes looked scared and anxious and Troy felt pity for the woman.

"Yes ma'am?" she spoke with a heavy Russian accent.

"Go find Emanuel and tell him that Troy needs another tux, immediately."

"Yes ma'am." And with those words, Estelle scampered off, seemingly relieved to be away from the blonde diva.

Even though she was slightly worried for her career, the brunette waitress had to admire the authority that the actress possessed; she almost felt an urge to bow at her feet, only to laugh silently at the thought.

"You would not find this amusing if I made _you_ pay for the damages you have caused." Sharpay remarked as she led the way to vast unoccupied bathroom. The guilty waitress's mouth fell open at the sight of the room.

Expensive and shiny was the best way to describe it. Everything glistened, from the shower, to the bathtub, to the twin sinks and even the toilet, as well as the dark tiled floor.

"Miss Evans, Emanuel says to tell you he does not know which suit you are speaking of."

Sharpay let out a sound between a growl, a hiss and a curse before stomping off, followed closely by a frantic Estelle. "Maria, clean his shirt." She snapped towards the amused waitress, jerking her blonde head in Troy's direction. Troy, who was leaning against the ceramic sink, rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shot an annoyed expression towards his wife. "I'm not incapacitated, Pay. I'm quite capable of cleaning my own clothes." He absolutely detested arguing with his wife, but there were a few times when he was unable to control his irritation.

"I know that sweetie, but she has to pay for her actions in some way." The loud clacking of Sharpay's heels reduced.

"She's really something isn't she?" Troy attempted to break the awkward silence that followed his wife's departure. He even tried to force a convincing smile, though his right hand never left the back of his neck.

She grinned and nodded cheekily; still not meeting his eyes s she walked hesitantly towards him and picked up the damp cloth Sharpay had flung in the sink. Troy forced himself to take a few minuscule steps away from her as her small body brushed against his larger one. His nostrils burned delightfully as her scent engulfed his senses, drowning out any coherent words his brain was throwing at him. He inhaled her distinct mango and watermelon scent, finding that his nostrils greatly enjoyed the unique combination. His panicked eyes latched onto the back of her head as she skillfully rinsed the towel in the sink before squeezing out the water and turning to face him, all traces of playfulness gone and replaced with blank nothingness.

"Please take your shirt off Mr. Bolton." She said coolly and very professionally.

Troy felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion as his eyes analyzed the small exotic beauty before him. From where he stood he could feel the intense heat radiating off her frame, igniting an unknown spark within him. He let out an awkward chuckle before proceeding to undo the buttons of his shirt, his gaze never averting from her unfathomable face.

"So, um…Maria?" he asked conversationally as he pulled the heavy material off his broad shoulders. Her gaze flicked between his sculptured chest and eyes before resting on the soaked towel. Without a word she took his shirt from his hands and spread it across the glass countertop before dabbing at it gently with the towel. "Um…okay." Troy chuckled in embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He casually leaned against the wall opposite her and folded his arms across his chest as he tried to make sense of the girl working furiously n his shirt. Normally, girls would have jumped at any opportunity to have a conversation with or would even burst into a fit of embarrassed giggles whenever he spoke to them, even the professional ones. But she; she was something else.

He felt an admiring grin curl across his face as he watched the blue towel, clutched strongly in her small hands, rub against the brown stain on his clothes. The way her small, fragile body shook with every swipe, the way her giant curl bounced against her small curved shoulders as she worked sparked an interest in him, one that he had never felt before. He had never actually paused to admire the way people worked, the angles, the calculated movements. The only times he did take notice of these was only when it came to sports. And even then he had never paid the much careful attention to the athletes like he was doing with the mysterious woman.

"So, uhm, _Maria_," he began, stressing her name in a teasing manner, hoping it would get a reaction out of her, "Where are you from?"

"A womb" was her mechanical reply. Her movements did not falter once. And her head did not rise to meet his eyes through the mirror either.

He laughed lightly, bowing his head to hide his shameful embarrassment and crossed his right leg over his left, hoping he didn't sound stupid. "Yeah…right, obviously."

Again no reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What had happened to the waitress with the odd sense of humor?

"But I mean, right…um, never mind." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and stared down at his own reflection in his black shoes—picked out by Sharpay, and the very pair he had attempted multiple times to get rid of. "Um, so," he tried again. He could almost feel her irritation at his persistent attempts to begin a conversation, "what happened to Kermit and Miss Piggy?"

Her plump, pink lips twitched. Perfect, he had gotten a reaction, finally. She stopped scrubbing vigorously and slowly turned to face him. Her hip rested against the edge of the dark granite surface and her tanned hands grippe the edge securely on both sides of her hips. She sucked her lips into her mouth to form a straight line and studied him through her long, thick lashes. Her legs stretched out before her as she slouched against the surface.

"Last I saw them Miss Piggy was panting at a table in the corner" she began, still not allowing him to see her dark brown pools, "Kermit was trying to…" she trailed off in giggles and Troy felt his heart melt as the melodious sound filled the tiled room, "it was fucking hilarious," she giggled, "he was trying to do the 'stanky leg' to impress some Barbie chick…" she trailed off distantly, still smiling at the memory. Troy laughed slightly as he understood what she was trying to explain "and, um, just saw you know, me and a couple of other staff members walked in, a number of times, on couples in your coat-room. It's more like a 'fuck-room' than a coat-room." She finally let her eyes fall on his. The air in the room thickened as their gazes collided, eyes filled with desire, lust and complete, inexplicable want. His heart constricted in beneath his ribs, he could feel a trickle of sweat glide down his back as a sudden, unexplainable, heat filled the opulent room. His palms perspired and his oxygen intake dropped drastically. He wanted nothing more than to take the three large steps to her and engulf the complete stranger in his arms, and do things to her that would make his mother faint and his best friend "whoop". He had this strange gut wrenching feeling that he would have done just that had he not heard the familiar clacking of heels just outside the bathroom.

"Do I have to do everything here by myself?" he heard the muffled complaint of his wife through the thick door. Almost immediately, the still unnamed waitress turned away from him returning to the closed up being she had been before and resumed her earlier actions. Troy felt anger, rejection, sadness, all wrapped up in lust, wash over him at the motion. Why did Sharpay have to come now?

A sudden and tragic realization hit him. He was attracted to her; he was a married man, who was attracted to a woman that was not his wife and he had nearly acted upon his desire. He had thought about cheating on his wife, something he swore he would never _ever _do to Sharpay or anyone.

"Gloria!" _Gloria_? Troy wondered in confusion.

"Maria/Gloria" whipped around to face her boss. Troy noted that once again her face bore an unreadable expression.

"Yes?"

"Did you get the stain off yet?"

"Almost."

"Well hurry up!" Sharpay commanded with a scowl. She strutted up to Troy and placed a perfectly manicured hand on his bare chest and playfully ran a long nail down his sculpted torso, "in the mean time babe, just wear this." She shoved a hanger with a new suit into his hands but he pushed her hands away.

"Actually, I'm kinda beat from practice. Coach's got us working harder for this season, so I'm just going to go upstairs." As he noticed his wife open her mouth in protest, he quickly said, "I heard that people are making your coatroom a um," he paused to look at "Maria/Gloria" who returned his humorous look through the mirror before he continued, smiling at the look of horror on Sharpay's face, "a 'fuck-room'"

"What?" she screeched, appalled, disgusted and outrage. She pushed the clothes into Estelle's—who had been standing timidly in the doorway—hands before storming out of the room, followed closely by the startle maid.

"Wow"

Troy turned to look at the woman who had spoken and beamed proudly. She gathered up his cleaned shirt, rinsed the towel in the sink before hanging it, and then handed Troy the shirt, holding it at arms' length. "Here's your shirt."

As he took the cloth from her, he asked the question that had been bothering him for a while, "is it Gloria or Maria or neither?"

Walking to the exit, she rolled her eyes and smirked, "neither." Then she disappeared.

Troy let his body sink against the surface behind and ran a tired hand through his neat not caring that the action ruined the neat style and left his hair looking untidy and scruffy. He wanted her, all of her. Was that wrong? Very wrong. But even so, for some reason that made him want her even more. He tried convincing himself that he was only interested in her for sex, but something in him argued against this, fairly intent on letting him know that it wasn't just sex he wanted from her but something more, something far more than he had ever desired in his short life.

Letting out a confused breath, he began a silent, thoughtful journey away from the party, away from his friends and colleagues and further away from her.

"Tay I don't know what to do!" Troy moaned into his phone hours later, "You're a girl. You're good with the mushy stuff."

Troy Bolton was quite used to hiding in his "man-cave". He did that almost every day, but hiding the _bathroom_ of his "man-cave" was a definite first for him. Perched on the edge of the ceramic tub, he whispered harshly and desperately into the small device clutched tightly in his hands.

"_I don't know how you expect me to help you Bolton. But you and I both know that this is wrong. I advise you to forget about it and move on. Besides you're never going to see her again so why freak out?"_

Taylor Mckessie could be described in _so_ many words and helpful sat proudly at the top of the list. Ever since Troy had met Taylor in college she had _always_ (heavy emphasis on the "always") found a resolution to all his problems and not only that, but had stayed with him throughout until the problem was fully resolved; she was what you would call "motherly". Even though she was the youngest in their trio, she acted like the adult; she would constantly remind them to take their medication (if one was ill), remind them of various appointments: doctors, dentist, conferences, promotions etc.

Troy had met Taylor on his first day at Stanford after he had roamed the campus for a good hour and refusing to admit to himself he was lost and stop and ask for directions to his destination. So he continued his mindless wandering until he heard an amused voice calling him. He had continued walking, thinking that the voice was not being directed towards him, until a short, neat and giggling girl walked up to him with a soft smile.

"Are you lost?" she had asked failing to hide her amusement. Embarrassed and too full of pride, Troy had rubbed the base of his neck and muttered a strangled no, to which Taylor had laughed and replied with,

"Riiiight. This clearly explains why you've walked past me three times in less than five minutes."

Troy's eyes had bulged in shock, embarrassment and slight humor. "What? Were you checking me out?"

To which Taylor had retorted, "No I _was_ trying to help your sorry ass, but since you don't need my help…"

"I'm sorry. I mean I do need your help…yeah I'm kinda lost…"

And they hit it off from there, becoming an inseparable pair of best friends

She always had a solution to everything, which was why Troy was currently on the phone with her, despite the fact that she was all the way in New York, busy all the way to her chin.

"I guess you're right." He breathed somewhat relieved and somewhat pained at the thought. Would he really never cross paths with her again? He hoped not, yet at the same time he hoped so. She was just so enticing, with her exotic looks, contagious laugh and unique sense of humor.

"_When have I been known to be wrong Bolton?"_

Troy chuckled at this as he leaned against the tiled wall and stared at the mirror opposite him. He passed a tired hand down his face and blinked several times before responding. "Never."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and Troy could tell that Taylor was thinking hard, fixing pieces together in her mind. "You sound exhausted." She finally said and Troy felt his shoulders slump; busted! "Is Sharpay harassing you again?"

"Again?"

He could almost enviosion Taylor poking her tongue out at him.

"_Whatever fathead!" _she joked playfully. _"Crap! Sorry, but I have to go…work Ugh! I hate it but I love."_

Troy smiled at his exasperated friend. "Okay. Don't over-work yourself. Love you."

"_Yes _'mom'_. And you need to get some rest. Call me if you need anything okay?"_

"Will do, Tay." Troy said teasingly.

"_Good. Bye! Love you."_

"You too."

* * *

**A/N: Please review. Constructive criticism is well appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for your reviews, you guys are awesome. I'm sorry for the shortness but I wanted to have this up fast. Look forward to the next chapter, that's when the heat rises.**

**A little side-note: If you've never been to L.A. make sure you go; it's amazing!**

**Enjoy this chapter and please review. **

A Passionate Affair

by wackystrings123

Chapter 2

Troy Bolton would not call himself spontaneous nor would he call himself "un-spontaneous" either. There had been a few instances when he had done things just out of the blue. For instance during his first year of college he had woken up on a Saturday morning and had a craving for a different scenery; so he managed to convince Chad and Taylor to take a drive with him all the way to Las Vegas just a couple of hours after waking up. Another instance was his unexpected proposal to Sharpay Evans. it had not been planned or even thought about but after a year of dating he somehow, subconsciously (he convinced himself several ties that he had been drunk!) popped the question during a Christmas dinner with Sharpay's family. Having not planned it, he had had to improvise and convinced her that he had indeed bought the ring weeks ago when just weeks ago he had not even thought about marriage. Sharpay, swamped with joy had believed him quickly after screaming "yes" multiple times into his poor ear and proceeded to smother him in hugs and kisses right in front of her family. It didn't take long before their engagement leaked to the press, what with Sharpay brandishing her ring to the world and exaggerating on Troy's proposal to unfortunate being in her earshot. It became BIG news and shot them even further into the world of fame.

A few weeks after meeting Maria/Gloria or whatever the hell her name was, Troy found himself embarking on yet another spontaneous journey to a part of Los Angeles he had never pictured himself in; the slums of L.A.****

He wasn't even sure if it had anything to do with his strange obsession with finding her.

So what was he doing here?

He had no clue.

Was there a reason for him being there?

Nope.

Did he care that he was presumably lost?

Hell no!

He was not scared, worried nor anxious he was just sick and tired of it all, of his life, of Sharpay, of everything. All he needed was an escape from it all; from basketball, from Sharpay, and from the media. Hitching his jacket tighter around his broad shoulders, he stepped out of the warmth of his sleek black Audi and into the bitter cold air of the slums of L.A. He had no idea which part of the city he was currently in, neither did he make any attempts to find out. Feeling carefree and adventurous, he took long, confident strides to the tiny diner situated in a small cramped area. As he walked through the door, his nostrils were hit the strong odor of grease and sweat, not very pleasant; his ears rung with the loud yells, and laughs that filled the small room.

He pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in his coat pocket, loosened his scarf before finding a vacant seat at the bar and busied himself by reading the menu.

…

"Montez!"

Kneeling behind the counter and loading plates onto the shelves, Gabriella Montez let out an aggravated sigh as the gruff and harsh toned voice flooded her ears. Annoyed, she shoved the rest of the plates nestling in her arms into the hardly spacious cupboard and rose to her feet ignoring the sharp zap of pain that shot through her spine. She quickly grabbed her pen and pad and secured her apron around her waist before going out to meet her boss.

"New customer at the bar," the squat Mexican man snapped, wiping his hands on his filthy apron, "go take his order." Gabriella rolled her eyes in annoyance and nodded mutely.

"Hi. I'm Gabriella, are you ready to order?"

At the sound of her voice the man pulled his beanie lower over his face and turned slightly to face her across the counter. He didn't look up but rather spoke into the menu. Gabriella scowled at this, believing it to be rude.

"I'll have coffee and, um…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "Which would you recommend the pancakes or the French toast?"

"I'd go with French toast." She recognized that voice. "The pancakes taste like grease." she chuckled at this, hoping it would cause the stranger to relax a little. It didn't. She furrowed her eyebrows and tried to look at the persons face past his beanie and sunglasses. "Do I know you?" she noticed the man tensed and he lowered his head even more. Why didn't he want her to see him?

"Um, I don't think so." He sounded annoyed and slightly panicked by her question.

"I'm sorry." She apologized knowing full well that her boss would murder her for annoying customers. "So will that be coffee and French toast?"

"Uh, yeah."

Gabriella hastily wrote it down, still trying to place a name to the voice. "Anything else?" once again she tried to look beneath his beanie at his face but he looked away.

"Are you always this intrusive of people's privacy?" the man hissed, snapping his head up to meet her eyes through his sunglasses.

A spark of recognition hit Gabriella as she stared at the lower half of his face. But still nothing came to her mind. She watched as the man's posture relaxed and his lips curled into a smile.

"Oh, um…hey…" he muttered nervously. Did he know her? Gabriella wondered. Why was he acting so different now?

The man seemed to notice her confusion for he laughed silently and raised his glasses and Gabriella was met with the deepest sea-blue eyes she had ever seen. Her hand flew to her mouth in shock as her eyes popped out of her sockets when he winked at her smugly. His dark eyes trailed down her body and back to lock with her shocked mocha eyes.

"So…_ Gabriella_, huh?" he said triumphantly, testing the name on his tongue and liking it. "It suits you."

Gabriella scowled and her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" she asked accusingly. He grinned goofily at her question and shrugged indifferently. Gabriella folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. "How do you know it suits me? When you know nothing about me?" she had not meant to sound this defensive but after the feelings Troy had spurned in her that night in the bathroom she had been hoping to never see him again and now seeing him here, in her territory was affecting her greatly. She didn't want to feel anything towards this man, considering they were from two _very _different backgrounds, the fact that he was married and the two of them just would not fit together.

Troy just chuckled, sunglasses in hand and leaned further over the bar and closer to her heated body. "From what I know, it's perfect."

Her lips curled inwards in skepticism. Who did this guy think he was? He didn't know her. No one but her, Gabriella Montez knew the real her and that was how it was going to stay for the rest of her life. "And just how much _do_ you know?"

"Enough."

His short response shot anger through her.

"Montez!" Her boss's shout cut off her next comment. She blushed sheepishly and mumbled something incoherent to Troy before disappearing into the kitchen. When she did come out moments later, after recovering from her heavy flow of emotions, she found Troy's seat vacant. Peering closer she saw he had left the money for his order - which he had not yet received – and a small piece of paper folded up neatly with her name scrawled out on the front. She tentatively spelled open the paper and read his messy penmanship.

_Come by anytime, you know where I live. I couldn't leave my number here in case someone else reads this note. I really do want to know more about you and I'm sorry if I offended you earlier I just hate not knowing things. I wanna get to know Gabriella, I really do. Just stop by whenever you can. I'll be there._

_Troy._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am once again, so sorry for the long wait. But I hope you will all enjoy this chapter, it's pretty slow but it'll get better. Thank you so much for all of your reviews, they really make me smile.**

Out of all the mistakes he had ever made in his life Troy had to admit that fleeing the Diner was most definitely the worst mistake he had ever made. He had waited until she had disappeared from his sight before he scribbled a quick note addressed to her and left within the blink of an eye.

Was it sheer cowardice that led to his departure?

He hated to admit it, but he knew that was the cause. He could not fathom how, of all the diners in Los Angeles she had to work at the one out of the millions he decided to choose. Fate was cruel yet at the same time he could not help but feel gratitude towards it for leading him to her. With the soothing ocean breeze filtering through his wild hair, he leaned against the hood of car with his arms cushioning his head and stared up at the ebony sky. He felt himself smirking at the cheesiness of his situation. He felt like an actor in one of those cheesy chick-flicks Sharpay always made him watch.

In as much as he despised the thought, he truly felt like he was in a chick flick, at the part where the guy just starts realizing he has feelings for the girl and is trying to sort them out. He scowled with dispassion when his iPhone vibrated in his back pocket. He hesitated when pulling it out. Could it be Gabriella? It wasn't. Against his will he felt a sharp stab of disappointment.

"Hey."

"Hey baby," Sharpay crooned in a flirty manner from the other end. "I won't be home tonight, I have a callback in New York." Troy rolled his eyes at this. "I've told Maya to be coming in everyday 'cause I know how unreliable your stomach is." She giggled at her own joke and Troy just merely rolled her eyes.

"You didn't have to Shar. If I get hungry I'll just order or go to Chad's."

"Okay sweetie. I'll miss you."

"Miss y—"

"Where are you right now? Maybe we can meet up before I leave?"

"Um…no I'm working." Troy lied smoothly. He couldn't let Sharpay know he had visited this side of Los Angeles. She would skin him alive, if not worse.

"Working?" he could almost see her cocking her head sideways in confusion. "Oh! Your dad." She said "This late? I thought you have people to do that for you?"

"No I don't . I gotta go. Love you."

"Love you more. Bye."

Troy pushed the end call button and stared at the large screen, almost expectantly. He could not understand why he was anxious for her to call when he had no right to be. He was married and for all he knew, she could also be taken…which was probably why she was not calling. He convinced himself of this bitterly as he stuffed the device back in his pocket and leaned back to analyze the scene above him. He realized that he could not just sit around waiting for her to call. He needed to stop thinking about her; he was married to a beautiful, talented woman whom he loved. Then why could he not stop thinking about Gabriella? Maybe if he met up with her and spoke to her about these…feelings, he would be able to solve them and things would go back to the way they were before he had met Gabriella. But did he want things to go back to the way they were?

* * *

"Yo Gabs, we're all going to Neon. You wanna come?"

Gabriella felt her heart lurch at the request. Clubbing was not her "thing", but these were her only friends and she hated having to pass up on the few opportunities she had to mingle with them. But it was not up to her. She needed the money. So she clutched the handle of her bag tightly and called softly.

"Sorry, can't." she watched the smile on the young Hispanic woman's face falter. "I gotta work." It wasn't a complete lie. She couldn't let any of her friends know about her _other _job.

The young woman dramatically threw her hands in the air and let out a flurry of insults in Spanish, "Gabby. You're always working!"

"I know Lena, bu—"

"No seriously, chica. You need to take a break or else I'll come over there and whoop your ass!"

Gabriella stood there silently, with a small smile as she fidgeted with her bag as she tried to come up with a decision. Skipping just one day of work wouldn't hurt. Would it? Besides it wasn't like she was working for someone this time. And she also needed to clear her head of Troy. Taking a deep breath she nodded, "K." she grin matched Selena's, "but just this once." She added sternly.

"Better than nothing." Selena shrugged in excitement. "Come on," she squealed, grabbing Gabriella's arm roughly, "let's get you looking sexy!"

Unfortunately for her, Selena's form of "sexy" was wearing her "work clothes" but not for "work". This was not what she wanted. She wanted to use this night to forget about everything, her life, her past and more importantly a certain basketball superstar. She bit her lip thoughtfully as she glare at her reflection in the floor length mirror in Selena's tiny apartment. The ripped, dark blue skinny jeans were tight as was the violet sleeveless halter neck wrapped around her torso, accentuating the curves she wished would just disappear. Her feet were buried into a pair of strappy, extremely high heels that dug into the crevices of her foot. She gingerly touched her hair, which Selena had done, attacking it with a curling iron and over a dozen hair clips, to make it stay up into a sort of bun, slash half-up-half-down do. Her make-up had been disastrous, but after long minutes of begging and arguing she finally managed to convince Selena to let her do her own make up, now it looked like she was barely wearing any at all, much to Selena's distaste.

She felt odd. This was the first time in a very long time she was going "out" just for the fun of it and she was determined to at least have fun and make it memorable, after all, who knew when she would next have this opportunity?

* * *

He needed to see her. It didn't matter if he had seen her just mere hours ago; he needed to speak with her. So he went back to the diner and consulted her boss about her whereabouts.

"Huh? Montez?" the large gutted man barked, itching his rounded chin with dirty fingers as he stared at the ceiling thoughtfully, " I always knew that slut would get herself into trouble one day." He muttered something in some foreign language Troy didn't know before regarding him with squinted eyes, "who did you say you were again?"

"It doesn't matter." Troy quickly countered, pulling his hoodie further down his face, "I just need to know where she is."

The round man scoffed rudely and turned away from Troy, busying himself by wiping the counter with a filthy rag, "I don't give out information for free."

Troy felt like punching him in the face. But instead he just sifted through his wallet and pulled out a handful of twenty dollar bills which he shoved onto the counter in front of the man. The man scooped up the notes in a flash, his small greedy eyes staring at the money in his hands then back at the basketball superstar. He looked almost suspicious but after a while he grinned, flashing chipped yellow teeth. "I don't know, some club. Neon I think."

"Neon?" Troy wondered, "Where's that?"

"How am I supposed to know? Do I fucking look like someone who goes clubbing?"

Troy scowled. He was not prepared to give this fowl character any more money so he decided to find it on his own. So he muttered a harsh thank you before proceeding to leave the store.

"I f you see the little slut tell her I've found a customer who pays big."

Troy felt his fists curl at the name and would have turned and pummeled the guy to the ground had he not been in a hurry. He ignored him and walked out of the door.

* * *

"Venga niña, vamos a perder!" Selena urged, swaying to the upbeat tempo of the music with the numerous men surrounding her, tossing her head wildly.

"Lena, this really isn't my scene." Gabriella whispered nervously to her intoxicated friend. Truth be told, even though it wasn't really her "scene", Gabriella usually found herself in this same situation almost every single day. She shut her eyes and tried not to think about work, but that proved to be difficult, as she was surrounded by a number of her former _clients_. "I'm gonna go get a drink."

"Bueno chicas" Selena replied loudly over the loud music her movements not faltering once. With a great effort, Gabriella weaved through the crowd of sweat drenched, grinding bodies, slapping away any hand that tried to curl around her body. She realized, with a frustrated sigh, that the bar was at the other end of the club from where she was. Upon reaching it, she leaned her whole weight against the work top and sighed deeply.

"Water, please." She breathed to the bartender who raised his eyebrows in question.

"Make that two waters."

Gabriella stilled. She knew that voice; it was him. The way the temperature of the atmosphere around her drastically increased proved that, as did the way her heart lurched dangerously around her rib cage. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed audibly before turning around at a snail's pace. There he stood, watching her intently with his aquamarine pools, his chestnut hair gelled back from his face and his thin lips curled into bright grin. His hands were buried in the pockets of her dark blue, low riding jeans and his hood was drawn back. Didn't he care if someone saw him?

He leaned close to her, caging her against the bar top as he whispered into her ear. "You're just everywhere, aren't you?"

Gabriella was speechless. She couldn't think of anything to say in response and she could feel the heat rising to her face. She just continued to stare at him, shocked and intrigued.

"Are you going to say anything?" Troy teased as he leaned over her to collect their drinks, yet at the same time shielding his face from the piercing eyes of the inquisitive bartender. "By the way, you look hot." He complimented, his eyes scanning her body as he added moisture to his lips with his tongue.

Gabriella's blush deepened but this time she managed to spit out a flurry of questions, "What are you doing here? What if someone sees you?" she hissed sharply, leaning closer to him so he could hear her better over the music.

Troy chuckled and took a sip of his water as he handed her, her own, "Relax Gabriella." he laughed, "No one knows I'm here."

"Bu-but paparazzi and fans and…" she trailed off, seeing the evident amusement on his face and felt the heat rise to her face again. "What are you doing here?" she asked, accusation and suspicion weaved into her tone. Troy shrugged indifferently, taking another large drink from his water as he leaned against the bar top and scanned her frozen frame.

"Same thing you're doing here." He glanced at her drink "who drinks water at a club?"

"I-I do! You need to get out of here before someone sees you!" Gabriella warned, her grip around her bottle tightening, whilst her eyes flitted around them frantically.

Troy sighed dramatically and placed his empty bottle and a few dollar notes on the bar, "Fine, since you are so desperate to leave, we shall."

Gabriella's eyebrows furrowed. "_We_?" she squeaked.

In response, Troy engulfed her small hand in his larger, warmer one, igniting strong sparks of electricity in both of them at the contact, and tugged her through the crowd, using his free hand to tug the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. He led her out of the club and down the road, farther and farther away from the Neon.

"Where are we going?"

She could almost see Troy smiling through his hood as she tried to keep up with him in her killer heels.

"You'll see."

**Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reviewing I really appreciate it. Sorry for the long wait and I hope this chapter was worth it.**

Rewritten: A Passionate Affair

By wackystrings123

Chapter 4

"Good morning Mr. Bolton." was the first thing Troy heard as he stepped out of the elevator into the spacious yet vacant room. He glanced over at the short and slightly round woman with graying hair, clad in a black suit and clutching a Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee and a clipboard.

"Morning Maya." he murmured, gladly accepting the steaming cup from her and bringing it to his lips, allowing the bitter, scorching liquid to flow freely down his dry throat and melt his frozen insides. He had had a rough night; sleep hadn't come so easily to him, which was a rare occurrence, guilt and anger had racked at his insides as well as sheer disappointment for his actions. He listened to what Maya was saying, not really taking anything in but nodding occasionally. Clutching the cup tightly in his fist, his lips stretched into a flat line, Troy took long, stiff strides towards his office, desperate to shut everyone and everything out and just be alone to wallow in self pity, hurt and rejection. He exhaled in relief when he saw the familiar bold print on the door:

Deputy M.D.

_Troy Bolton_

"Your father wants you to meet him in his office ASAP."

Resting a hand on the door handle, Troy faced the woman and sent her one of his charming smiles, "tell him to give me ten minutes." And without waiting for a response, he stalked into his empty office, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Finally alone he fell into his chair behind his desk and let his face fall into his hands in defeat. She would not stop plaguing his mind! His lack of sleep both nights prior had been partly due to this torment as well as what had happened on Saturday night. Troy Bolton had _never_ felt so stupid in his entire life; sure there had been those spur of the moment instances when he'd done stupid and reckless things but not one of them or all of them together could overpass the stupidity of his actions on Saturday. He couldn't even remember what he had been thinking as he sure as well wasn't drunk, not even close to being tipsy! It was just a mindless act that led to all this…stupidity.

FLASHBACK

_"Where are we going?"_

_She could almost see Troy smiling through his hood as she tried to keep up with him in her killer heels._

_"You'll see."_

_He could feel tiny droplets of sweat oozing from the sensitive pores in his palm and prayed she couldn't feel the salty moisture. He wasn't exactly nervous, more like anxious. He really, _desperately _wanted to get to know her and for her to like him. He didn't know why; he found her intriguing, fascinating, alluring and complicated. He found her challenging, and Troy Bolton was not the kind of person to turn down a challenge._

_"Troy, seriously where are you taking me?" she asked, her dark eyes searching frantically for any follower. Troy felt his lips twitch at her evident cautiousness and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before dropping it as they neared his car. He watched as she gazed at the sleek vehicle in awe, not even bothering to mask her fascination as she openly gawked at his car._

_"Like it?" he teased, fighting a grin as he unlocked the car and waited for her to snap back to earth. She shook her head slightly and stared at him with hard eyes as if to say _What do you think? _He grinned as he slid into the drivers' seat and started the car. When he noticed she had made no movement to get in, he rolled down the window to the passenger side and fixed her with a taunting grin. "Are you going to get in or do I have to put you in myself?"_

_"First, tell me where you plan on taking me." she said stubbornly._

_Troy raked his fingers through his messy hair, "does it really matter?" when she didn't move he sighed, "It's a surprise."_

_Her lips stretched into a thin line and her dark eyes narrowed as she folded her arms across her small chest, "I hate surprises."_

_"Trust me, you'll like this one." He was growing impatient. Paparazzi and fans were probably growing closer and closer to them with each passing second and the last thing he wanted was to be caught in a throng of them. He watched silently as she contemplated his offer. He took this time to properly take her in without getting caught. He started with her hair, admiring the way some of her curls cascaded around her bare bronzed shoulders and down her back like a rapid waterfall of ebony, and the rest held up by an invisible band, with a few stubborn tresses falling into her face. He noted the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she thought, her thick eyebrows drawn together. He took in the way one side of her plump bottom lip was drawn into her mouth, held there by her teeth. His gaze travelled down to her slender neck, trailing south to the top of her dress. He swallowed when his eyes fell on the olive mounds half hidden beneath the black material. He could feel his body heating up as he let his imagination wander despite how wrong he knew it was._

_"Fine!" he voice brought him out of his far from innocent reverie causing him to jump slightly in his seat. She slid into the passenger seat none too quietly and just stared ahead. Troy flashed a charming grin as he pulled out on to the vacant road._

_"I knew you couldn't resist my offer."_

_"Whatever. Try anything and I'll fry your balls." She threatened humorlessly, her eyes still trained forward. Troy's grin widened and he flicked a quick glance at her._

_"Got it."_

_Throughout the entire drive, Gabriella maintained a stiff posture: her hands folded protectively across her chest, her dark eyes kept forward and her lips kept in a neutral position; not frowning not smiling. She had her legs crossed causing her short dress to ride up to her butt, unintentionally and unaware that she was causing Troy discomfort._

_"Seriously Bolton, where are you taking me?" she asked in an acidic tone not even sparing him a glance._

_"Why are you so pissed off at me?" he asked, ignoring her question. He spoke in a joking manner, hoping it would mask his hurt. It didn't._

_She gave him a pointed stare, "well, most girls don't like being dragged away from a night with her friends by a stranger who refuses to tell her where he is taking her."_

_Troy chuckled, shifting his eyes off the road for a moment to look at her, "I'm not what you would classify as a stranger."_

_"Uh, yeah you are." Troy took note of the defensiveness and anger in her tone and felt his smile falter a bit. It was plainly obvious that she did not like him at all nor was she comfortable around him. "I know nothing about you."_

_He raked his fingers through his hair in mild frustration and sighed. "Really?" he asked regaining his cheerful façade, "not even from the tabloids, newspapers or T.V.?"_

_"I don't make it my business to read about people I don't know, especially people like you."_

_"Like me?" he failed to mask the surprise in his voice. Gabriella shrugged, hinting that the conversation was through and then turned to look out the window._

_What was wrong with people like him? What exactly did she mean? Pondering these thoughts, he decided to cease all talking until they reached their destination._

_"The beach?" Gabriella asked incredulously as Troy parked the car on the sandy isolated beach and turned the engine off. "You dragged me all this way for the beach?" _

_A sharp pain shot through Troy's chest. "You just seemed like a beach kind of person." He offered with a lopsided grin. Her hesitation to his statement proved that he was not mistaken. He felt triumphant at this revelation._

_"And what made you assume that?" she question with caution. Without waiting for his response, she opened the door and slid out of the vehicle, hastily kicking off her stilettos and burying her feet in the warm, silky grains of sand. Gabriella watched as calm waves crashed onto the silvery surface of the sand, spraying white foam then receding back almost reluctantly, before the process was repeated again and again. Troy observed as her posture relaxed and an almost tranquil look encompassed her olive face. He gazed at the way her small arms cocooned her body as she inhaled the saltiness of the frigid atmosphere before he too climbed out of the car. He walked over to her side, slowly so as not to disturb her and followed her gaze._

_"Excuse my cheese, but when I was younger I used to come to this every beach all the time with my parents. Back when this place was alive. I remember every Saturday and Sunday there'd be all these activities for kids and adults and I used to love coming here…" she trailed off, deep in thought, a smile playing on her lips as she wrapped her arms tighter around herself._

_"Where are they?" Troy asked, genuinely curious as he watched her intently, "your parents I mean."_

_Gabriella unwrapped her arms from around her and let out a labored breath. She paused a while before replying, "Dead." Her voice was empty, devoid of all emotion. Troy immediately felt bad for being curious. He found himself reaching for her and wrapping his arm around her warm wrist, twirling her to face him. "I-I'm so sorry Gabriella." he stammered, trying hard to show that he was really, _truly _sincere. She grinned and shook her head, pushing a strand of her dark curls behind her ear._

_"It's in the past. It doesn't matter." The way her voice shook slightly led Troy to believe otherwise but he decided not to push it._

_"So Gabriella, got a last name?"_

_Gabriella's eyebrows rose playfully, "what, my first name isn't enough for you?"_

_Troy chuckled, tugging on her wrist to bring her closer, ignoring the warning bells screaming in his head. "Not really."_

_"Hmm, is that so?" She mused, letting him pull her flush against his body too entranced by the way his deep blue pools regarded her daringly. He nodded, too breathless to speak. Her dark eyes, he noted, though playful and mischievous had some sort of wall. He wasn't sure how he knew but he was certain she was hiding something from him and everyone else, something big and he wanted, so badly, to know what. But at that moment he wanted nothing more than to smother her plump, pink lips with his and stay that way for eternity. Yet, something, in the back of his mind was nagging at him, trying to remind him of how wrong what he was about to do was. But he ignored it, unable to see anything else but the Latina beauty in front of him, her eyes partly closed, breath short and labored and glossy lips parted slightly in anticipation._

_With his one hand still holding her wrist, the other one trailed slowly over the heated skin of her arm, along the smooth surface of her neck, to tangle in the silky mass of her hair. He bit his lip to keep from groaning as the stands slithered effortlessly along and through his fingers. He shut his eyes tight and brought her face closer to his, brushing his nose gently against hers once, twice, before claiming her lips with his._

_The kiss was anything but slow. He attacked her lips aggressively, starved and trying to quench his thirst. She responded, as eager and desperate as him, sighing at the intimate connection and collecting a handful of his shirt at his sides. To say their bodies were on fire would be an understatement. This was nothing like the heat from a fire, this was different and he couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it felt like. But he didn't care, he liked it too much. He clutched the back of her head firmly, ravaging her lips and forcing his tongue against hers. This was a new kind of heat; an indescribable need and he knew she felt it too given the soft moans and gasps she kept emitting into his mouth as his tongue dueled with hers. Her body fell against his, limp and wasted, her hands gripping his sides for support. He let go of her wrist and wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing her closer and at the same time keeping her upright._

_For the first time in his life, Troy hated breathing. He pulled back, only for a second, panting heavily and still holding her body against his. Without waiting for her to open her eyes, he reconnected their lips, this time slowly brushing his lips against her bruised, swollen ones in a tender caress, inhaling her sweet aroma and reveling in the heat of the moment._

_Then he felt her stiffen against him. The fists at his sides relaxed and she tore her body away from his. He watched in horror as she clasped her small hands over her face and sank onto the sand, whispering repeatedly what sounded like "Oh my G-d!" He unsurely knelt by her and hesitantly reached out, with a shaking hand, to rub her back soothingly only to have her flinch away from his touch and struggle to her feet._

_"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she gasped, her eyes glistening with tears, face flushed and lips still swollen. At first Troy wasn't sure whether she was speaking to him or herself or both of them. Without waiting for his response, she stabbed her fingers into her hair and turned away. _

_"No." Troy said sharply feeling guilty but at the same time aroused and feeling even more guilty for being aroused. "This is all my fault." He said, "I shouldn't have—"_

_He was cut off when Gabriella held up her hand sharply, "please, just don't. Just leave me alone. " she muttered and began walking towards his car to collect her belongings._

_Troy hurried to keep up with her, making sure to keep a distance. "At least let me take you back." He protested but she shook her head, curls flying and eyes guarded, "I'll be fine."_

_Troy watched her walk towards the main road, half wanting to follow her and half wanting to beat himself up over his stupidity. He loved Sharpay, he really did, but what he felt for Gabriella was stronger and deeper and he wanted more of it. He felt selfish for even thinking that when Gabriella was obviously distraught by his actions. He couldn't understand why she had blown up like that when she seemed to like kissing him as much as he liked kissing her. of course it probably had a lot to do with the fact that he was married and by kissing him she had become the "other woman" but that wasn't how he saw it._

_He wanted her so, _so _bad it hurt, adding on to the guilt and disappointment. Neither Sharpay, nor Gabriella deserved any of this. He was stupid, playing around with two women. That was not how he was raised. He was going to do the right thing; what Gabriella wanted. He was going to _try _and leave her alone. She obviously did not want him in her life. No matter how much it hurt him, he was going to obey her wish._

_ He was going to leave her alone._

END OF FLAHBACK

**A/N: I hope you liked it. Don't forget to leave a review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Wow…your responses are AMAZING. I really, _really _appreciate them. Thank you sooo much. I know this is short but I wanted to have it up sooner because school starts next week :(**

**But anyway, ENJOY!**

Rewritten: A Passionate Affair

By wackystrings123

Chapter 5

Her weekend had been a complete disaster. Now the rest of week wasn't looking so bright either.

She had overslept on Monday morning and had been late for work, to which she had gotten quite a loud lecture from her boss for what felt like hours. Then to make things worse, with the load on her mind, she had messed up orders, spaced when taking orders and actually managed to fall flat on her face with a tray full of greasy food; which of course was then followed by another hour long lecture from her boss and a large reduction from her salary

By the end of her work shift at four, she was sticky, covered in grease and just about ready to collapse. Her body was sore, her feet ached and her head felt just about ready to explode. She could barely walk straight when she left the cramped, stuffy restaurant. A bed, she needed a soft, warm bed to just sink into. Unfortunately, that wasn't really a possibility. The thought of having to endure a screaming couple as well as seven screaming kids clearly over ruled that idea.

Looking down at the flimsy piece of plastic adorning her thin wrist and noting the time it gave, she made her decision on where to crash.

The public library had always provided a secure and comforting escape for Gabriella for years now. The librarian knew her well and the two had formed a sort of odd friendship. So when Gabriella staggered through the heavy oak doors, half ready to collapse, the wiry Mrs. Falstaff had rushed to the girls' aid and helped her sink into a soft, cushioned chair, hidden from the view of any curious customers.

"Oh dear." The elderly woman sighed as she produced a steaming mug of tea for the exhausted brunette. "Work?" the knowing in her tone, the softness surrounding her and the sweet aroma of the herbal tea soothed Gabriella and with barely any movement nodded her head. It wasn't a complete lie. Sure there was more to it than work, but the woman did not need to know that.

"You, my dear, need a break."

Gabriella forced a smile and regarded the elderly woman, from the wispy strands of snow white hair, tucked neatly into a tight bun, to her fully buttoned cream blouse, to the ankle length plain gray skirt and all the way down to her full black shoes. "You know I can't Margaret." Gabriella sighed and took a long, relaxing sip from the heated liquid swirling around in the brown mug. Of course Margaret Falstaff understood; she was the only one who understood the young girls' predicament and it pained her even more to watch the young woman push herself to death and not accept any help from anyone. And she felt nothing but pure awe and sympathy for her Girls' like her were unique and quite hard to come by.

Margaret smiled though it didn't reach the depths of her light gray eyes. "So, a couple of books on mythology came by last night and I know you'd be interested, so," she watched the brunette's eyes brighten and the little ounce color that flooded on to her face, before she vanished behind her high desk and with a great deal of effort hauled two, extremely thick books onto her desk, "I thought you'd like to read them before I put them up on display."

"Really?" Gabriella grinned as she reached for one of the books in excitement. Without glancing at the cover, she flipped through it, fingers itching to read. "Thank you so much Mag!" she gushed.

"Go on. Get outta here. I've got work to do."

Gabriella smiled gratefully as she picked up the mug of tea and both books. "I'll be at the back."

"Knock yourself out." Margaret winked and watched as, with new found energy, the tiny brunette navigated her through the shelves to her favorite spot in the library.

Gabriella collapsed heavily into the old fashioned, Victorian styled armchair situated at the very end of the library, hidden completely from view. She hauled off her ragged jacket and curled her legs under her, opening one of the books in her lap and indulging herself in the magical tales of mythology from around the world, all thoughts of a certain basketball captain fleeing her mind, that was until she saw the magazine thrown haphazardly on the table with three words, printed in big, bold letters at the very top of the page.

_BOLTON'S NEW GIRL?_

Her heart stopped in her chest and panic flooded her system. This could not be happening. Frantically she snatched the paper and studied the column intently, eyes scanning wildly and her heart slamming erratically in her throat.

_Have the seductions of fame and fortune finally found another victim?_

_It seems so. And unfortunately that victim is none other than our star player Lakers captain, Troy Bolton. At twenty-four, Bolton is already known as one of the richest and most successful men in the country. Being the only son to the famous Jack Bolton and deputy M.D. of Bolton Inc., owner of several other smaller businesses across the country, and husband to the Sharpay Evans, we can safely say that Troy Bolton has achieved more than the average male, in a lifetime. And though we have always regarded him as a saint, it seems as though our little saint is not so "saint-like" anymore. _

_Last night many reported sighting the Lakers star at a lowly club in downtown Angeles **with** a mystery brunette. This certainly raised eyebrows._

_According to several eyewitnesses, Bolton and his mystery girl were rather…steamy. _

_"They were making out and taking shots in a corner. At one point he even had his hand up her skirt!" one eyewitness reports._

Gabriella scowled at this. His hand up her _what_? She rolled her eyes in disgust at the lies the "so-called-eyewitness" was feeding the press. She felt a flurry of emotions bubble inside her; hate, anger, disappointment and guilt…especially guilt. His wife did not deserve this and neither did Troy. She was nothing but a filthy slut, a stupid home-wrecker that was once again destroying marriages.

"Good job Gabriella." she muttered sarcastically to herself before shutting the magazine and returning it back to the table. She was unable to finish reading it; she couldn't take more of the facts; of her being nothing but a lowly slut.

She wondered whether Troy knew already. She was certain that he now regretted ever coming into contact with her or even kissing her! Gabriella closed her eyes and let her mind wander. The kiss had been beyond amazing, so unlike any other kisses she had ever had. This one was different, but in a good way. Unlike all the others she actually felt something besides pain and disgust. His lips had been so warm and tender and unnaturally soft. She vividly recalled the way the had molded perfectly against hers, tasting and owning them.

She felt molten heat bubble up in the pit of her stomach. She wanted more. _Him_. She wanted him but unfortunately for her, he was already taken.

…

He had his hand up her _what_?

Troy's eyes bulged and he choked on his own saliva as he took in the words blinking up at him from his computer screen. He was in trouble, in deep, deep…

"Shit." He grasped a fistful of his chestnut hair harshly and swore repeatedly under his breath. "Fuck. Fuck. _FUCK_!"

He was furious with himself, with the media, with Gabriella, Sharpay and just about everyone in the whole damn world. Why him? Even though he knew that part of it was a lie he still felt guilty. He had been at the club that night and he had interacted with a brunette. But he just didn't think anyone would recognize him, and his disguise had been so good. He slapped a hand over his eyes and slammed his fist onto the glass of his desk.

"Dammit!" he hissed in anger. _Damn her_! It was all her fucking fault. If she hadn't seduced he wouldn't have been in the stupid mess. But even as he thought this he felt selfish. Of course it wasn't her fault. In fact, she had been reluctant. She had indirectly pointed out the wrongness of their situation but did he listen? Hell no. he had let his stupid dick do the thinking. What was wrong with him? She didn't deserve this. _Sharpay _didn't deserve this. Sharpay! His wife, the love of his life…? He couldn't help but question the last part.

What was it about Gabriella that had made him forget everything, forget Sharpay, forget the love of his life? Was it because of her beautiful, exotic looks, or her funny, no-nonsense personality? Or was it because of the emotions he had felt the first day he met her, in the bathroom, or was it because in some weird way, she understood him? Or maybe it was because she really saw him, for who he truly was and not some basketball player with good looks and tons of money. Or maybe it was all of the above…

Troy scowled at his sappy thoughts and looked back at the screen. His scowl deepened further as he realized that he wished that they had done all that. He was dying to kiss her again and hopefully take it further than just kissing. He wanted to see her again, inhale her intoxicating scent one more time. He missed her already after just over twenty four hours. She had not left his mind once, even in Sharpay's presence. She was everywhere; her voice, her smell, her laugh. She was purposefully haunting him. Torturing him for betraying Sharpay and he really did deserve it.

A memory, that was as good as it would get after all, he had promised to leave her alone, no matter how much it hurt.

The sound of his phone ringing pulled him out of his thoughts. He glanced down and saw a name that caused his heart halt in his chest.

…

**A/N: CLIFFHANGER…Not a very good one, I know. **

**So who do you think it should be? Review! :)**


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